This chapter looks at the portrayal of Syrian children in media coverage of
the Za’atari refugee camp. It analyses how reporting on children’s issues
evolved over a three-year period and the role of aid agencies in the
newsgathering process. Media coverage of the camp moved from a hard news
approach, where children were framed in what could be perceived a negative
manner, to a features-led approach with deeper context and nuance to
articles, presenting children as more actively and positively involved in
camp life. The chapter argues that the relationship between humanitarian
organisations and journalists can be mutually beneficial and result in
reporting with deeper context and nuance, whilst better protecting children
along the way.

When the Syrian conflict escalated
in early 2012, there was still little sense that this would result in
what is now described as the world’s biggest humanitarian crisis of our
time.1 But by
mid-2012, thousands of Syrians, half of whom were children, started
fleeing their country for safety across borders, including to their
southern neighbour, Jordan.2 To cope with the rapid influx of people, the Jordanian
government opened Za’atari refugee camp in late July 2012, with support
from the Jordan Hashemite Charity Organisation, United Nations agencies
and other partners.3
In the harsh conditions of Jordan’s northern desert, Za’atari rapidly
became a massive aid operation and at the same time the media face of
not only the refugee crisis in Jordan but across the region.

What was apparent, from the early days of the camp, was the
large numbers of children and young people fleeing Syria, with more than
half of the Za’atari population under eighteen years of age.4 For visitors,
statistics were unnecessary; there were simply children everywhere. The
majority came from the southern Syrian province of Dar’a, where the
conflict first erupted. It was from here that children became central to
the narrative of the Syrian conflict, when in March 2011 a group of
teenagers painted a phrase on their school walls in Dar’a town calling
for the fall of the government.5 The boys were reportedly arrested, beaten and tortured
in prison.6 After
Friday prayers on 18 March 2011, a protest march took place during which
five demonstrators were killed and the conflict in Syria was born.7

The hundreds of refugees crossing to Jordan daily turned to
thousands by late 2012 and Za’atari grew rapidly in size. Aid agencies
found themselves in a race against time to provide shelter, food,
schooling and other services for those arriving.8 At the same time, journalists and TV
crews from across the world became part of the Za’atari landscape. The
camp was a major news story and by August 2013, the 120,000 Syrians were
living within a melting pot of aid workers, journalists, visiting
politicians and celebrities.9 Through extensive experience of working with media in
Za’atari, news reports from international English-language media and
academic literature, this chapter looks at the portrayal of children in
media coverage of the camp. By analysing how
reporting on children’s issues evolved over a three-year period and the
role of aid agencies in the newsgathering process, this piece of work
argues that the relationship between humanitarian organisations and
journalists can be mutually beneficial and result in reporting with
deeper context and nuance, whilst better protecting children along the
way.

There are well-documented concerns about the focus on media
work by aid agencies and their close relationship with journalists.
Simon Cottle and David Nolan claim that, ‘These developments imperil the
very ethics and project of global humanitarianism that aid agencies
historically have done so much to promote’.10 Glenda Cooper also questions the
editorial integrity of journalists working with aid agencies: ‘While
journalists – if sometimes imperfectly – work on the principle of
impartiality, the aid agency is usually there to get a message across:
to raise money, to raise awareness, to change a situation.’11 Despite this, the
collaboration between aid agencies and journalists may serve each
other’s interests but also produces more informative, accurate and
engaging media content for the reader, viewer or listener. With
increasing debate and discussion about the rising role of fake news and
in a post-truth political environment this could be more important than
ever.12

This outlook is most likely too positive for some but the
case is put forward by focusing on the period from the opening of
Za’atari camp in late July 2012 until July 2015, during which two phases
of media coverage are identified. The first could be termed a more hard
news approach that mirrors the acute emergency phase of aid operations
in Za’atari, where children are framed in what could be perceived as a
more negative manner. For example, children who vow for revenge in the
fight back in Syria and others who play a role in the reported
lawlessness of the camp’s earlier days. While the second phase of media
coverage, from early 2014 until mid-2015, reflects a more features led
approach with deeper context and nuance to articles, presenting children
as more actively and positively involved in camp life. This includes
articles about children desperate to continue their education and others
who are improving their living conditions by designing small gardens.
Reporting that reflects an ongoing childhood and aspirations for the
future, despite everything children have been through.

A newsworthy venture

After opening, Za’atari rapidly
became a major global news story, with significant media coverage from
the camp focusing on issues related to children and young people. Given
that this was, as Sean Healy and Sandrine Tiller note, the most easily
accessible camp in the highest profile conflict in the world, it may not
be surprising.13 But
it is important to consider the news values for foreign media coverage,
such as those cited by Johan Galtung and Mari Holmboe Ruge, to provide
some insight in to the media’s decision-making process for coverage from
Za’atari.14 This
helps us to better understand how and why reporting evolved over time
and what role aid agencies may have had in
influencing the discourse used. Galtung and Ruge focus on the process
that leads to a story being produced, ‘a chain that could have seven or
eight steps in it or be much shorter if the newspaper has a
correspondent’.15
Whether there is a reporter on the ground close to the location of the
‘event’ is an important consideration. For at the top end of the chain,
where editorial decisions are made in capitals far from the news,
exacting influence can be more challenging. When a correspondent is
present, there are greater opportunities for aid agencies to play a more
direct role. In both cases, personal relationships are critical, for
journalists not only bring with them the interests of their organisation
but also their own experiences in society, which are, as Rukhsana Aslam
notes, ‘ingrained in their minds from childhood’. The reporter, as an
individual, interprets the events they cover and forms the ‘first draft
of history’, which is why the relationship between aid workers and
journalists is so important.16

Whether a reporter gets to the relevant location in the
first place relies on a number of factors. Economic issues, distance,
safety and media accreditation all play their part. The economic
interests of media outlets are often at the forefront and with foreign
news budgets shrinking sustained coverage of humanitarian crises is a
challenge.17 As John
Simpson notes, ‘Most newspapers have largely sacked their foreign
correspondents, relying instead on one or two staff members, one in,
say, the United States and the other perhaps in the Middle East’.18 Despite this,
conflicts, natural disasters and health emergencies are more likely to
fit the required narrative of big bangs and negative news to justify the
cost of covering the story.19 When there is a major ‘event’ within these crises, as
opposed to an ongoing process, this is also more likely to be
reported.20 Add in
some elite people, or celebrities, and the probability that it will
become news rises further.21

In the case of Za’atari, access was not such a pertinent
issue. Travelling to Jordan is easy, safe and relatively inexpensive,
while at just over an hour from the capital, Amman, the camp is an easy
day trip, with a full range of accommodation options on return. Once in
Jordan, acquiring media permits to enter the camp was initially
straightforward and required not much more than an email and printed
acceptance. When this process became more complicated in late 2013,
there was a shift in the working relationship between aid agencies and
journalists. But there were also a number of layers of access, as the
journalist Rana F. Sweis noted:

In order for me to see some of the refugees in
the centers and other spaces, I had to organize this through the
respective aid agencies. So in some ways the aid agencies were
facilitators and in other ways they were the experts on the
issues and provided me with information I often needed.22

To enter the
schools, health clinics and youth centres in the camp, as in any town,
you needed permission and aid agencies were primarily managing these
services. There was at the least a forced relationship, though
journalists were not always interested in
activities at the centres. In phase one of coverage, Syrian refugees
were vital sources for reporters to get first-hand information about the
situation inside Syria. Journalists were primarily focused on talking
with families who had just fled their country. The Syrian refugee
population in Lebanon was very scattered, with no official camps, and
those in Turkey and Iraq harder logistically and more expensive to
reach. From its outset, the war in Syria has been extremely dangerous to
cover. In 2012, Reporters without Borders called Syria a ‘Cemetery for
News Providers’. In the following years, the conflict became even more
complicated and dangerous to cover. Journalists would often request to
interview people who had just arrived from Syria, those who could
provide stories from across the border just 15 kilometres away. This
changed when Za’atari was declared full by the camp management and
Syrians arriving in Jordan were sheltered in Azraq camp that opened at
the end of April 2014.23 Azraq, from its outset, had much stricter regulations
for journalists and interviewing families was a much more controlled
process.

Events inside Za’atari also met the news values in that,
‘The more negative the event in its consequences, the more probable that
it will become a news item’.24 Incidents of unrest, violence and sexual harassment
all fed the media agenda. It was an abnormal environment: a camp that
grew out of the desert within months and by March 2013 was being
referred to as Jordan’s fifth largest town.25 Regular high profile visitors and
elites, from actress Angelina Jolie to the US Secretary of State, John
Kerry, also contributed to the regular media coverage, despite the fact
that only 15 per cent of the Syrian refugee population lived in
Za’atari. It was very challenging to convince journalists to cover
stories outside of the camp. There were concerted efforts by a number of
aid agencies to do this but with few results, particularly during the
earlier days of the camp.

The Za’atari child

The first phase of media coverage
includes the period from the opening of the camp until early 2014.
During this timeframe, Za’atari became synonymous through the media, for
being a lawless place where children ran riot and harboured thoughts of
revenge on their return to Syria. ‘We are going to kill them with our
knives, just like they killed us’, eleven-year-old Ibtisam is cited as
saying in one New York Times article titled, ‘Syrian Children
Offer Glimpse of a Future of Reprisals’.26 This early media discourse portrays
children in a more aggressive and threatening manner, young people who
were not only responsible for playing a role in the instability of the
camp but who were looking to fuel the fight back home. ‘Young Refugees
to Haunt MidEast for Years’, reported Mark MacKinnon for Canada’s
Globe and Mail.27 While Catherine Philp’s UK Times story led
with, ‘Children are Groomed for War in Huge Refugee Camp’.28

The attention-grabbing headlines may not be surprising but
within the main body of the articles, the portrayal of children often
reflects the pre-existing frames that Jaap Van
Ginneken notes as being critical to media producers and consumers in
their understanding of the world.29 Philp writes about meeting a boy playing computer
games on the camp’s main street. ‘Counter Strike, has become the most
populous diversion for the thousands of young, restless boys of Zaatari
refugee camp. “It teaches us how to fight jihad”’, nine-year-old
Mohammed is quoted as saying.30 MacKinnon also uses the computer game analogy:

Counterstrike, which pits terrorists
against counterterrorists. Players watch over the barrel of a
virtual assault rifle as bullets slash through virtual enemies.
Also, because the computers are connected, kids can divide into
teams and recreate ‘Regime against Rebels’.31

The
article goes on to explain how another child is waiting for his chance
to join the jihad, following a question to the boy about how the war is
going. The link in the articles between violent computer games and the
conflict that the children fled is in some ways pertinent. It highlights
an example of what Galtung and Ruge call ‘cultural proximity’ that helps
to engage an audience. ‘That is, the event-scanner [audience] will pay
particular attention to the familiar, to the culturally similar, and the
culturally distant will be passed by more easily and not be noticed.’32 Parents
geographically removed from the Syrian crisis can identify with this
image being played out in their own homes. But while a European or North
American child plays the game for fun, the children in Za’atari prepare
themselves for jihad, framing Syrian children within the global
terrorism narrative. As David Altheide notes, terrorism has become a
dominant frame surrounding many cultural and institutional narratives,
which produces a code for the ‘fear of the other’.33 With media texts a part of our world,
this positioning may not be surprising, ‘for these texts and images are
social phenomena and often part of the debate about society going on in
the world’.34 The
language used influences how we talk or think about a subject and as
Suzanne Franks has highlighted, public awareness about humanitarian
disasters is primarily defined by the media, which is why the discourse
used in representing Syrian children is so important.35 When Philp’s story was read by a
Jordanian aid worker in the camp the response was, ‘This presents a
twisted version of the reality in Za’atari’.36 He was particularly surprised by the
jihad reference stating that it was quite normal for children to play
the game for fun, as opposed to the article’s more sinister insinuation.
This framing is maybe predictable, as Jean Seaton notes, ‘stories
news-makers construct are often shaped by a limited range of established
narratives into which diverse and real events are fitted’.37 In some articles,
quotes from aid workers were used to help explain why children behaved
in a more aggressive manner. ‘Such profound stress can be mind-altering,
especially for young brains, which switch off simply to survive … They
can’t determine risk anymore and when they get angry they have no
ability to control these impulses’, a child protection officer is quoted
as saying.38 While
this provides valuable context, it could be argued that the overall
framing of the article around children’s
determination to exact revenge already presented children as complicit
in the violence. On some occasions, the concerns raised by humanitarian
organisations played in to this narrative. For example, one aid worker
is quoted as saying, ‘I’m afraid of the kids here’.39

The Syrian population crossing in to Jordan presented a
different image of children affected by humanitarian crises. The ‘Live
Aid Legacy’ visual, of ‘starving children with flies around their eyes’,
wouldn’t fit the narrative, nor was the reality, for Syrian children in
Za’atari.40 They were
not poverty-stricken or malnourished but were from the working- and
middle-class communities of towns and villages across Syria. They were
living a childhood like any other children, most were attending school
in a country that had a 97 per cent enrolment rate before the
conflict.41 But they
were now deeply traumatised from their experiences of conflict and
displacement. This is an important consideration when it comes to the
aid agency response and media discourse from Za’atari. Education and
child protection issues came to the forefront, two sectors that are
often not prioritised, particularly when it comes to funding. For
example, prior to the Syrian crisis education in emergencies received on
average just 2 per cent of humanitarian aid funds.42 In this new environment, aid agencies
focused on raising awareness about the education and child protection
issues affecting Syrian children. The ‘No Lost Generation’ initiative
was one example of this work.43 The campaign included multiple partners and was
designed to highlight the critical needs of getting Syrian children back
to school, as well as ‘to help them heal from the horrors of war and
displacement and to better engage young people in the issues affecting
them’.44 The
initiative was to act as an early warning message about the long-term
impact of a whole generation of children growing up through conflict, at
the same time there was a clear fundraising goal to support the two
sectors of often underfunded humanitarian assistance. The language used
in the ‘No Lost Generation’ initiative is one of urgency. ‘An entire
generation of Syrian children and youth are living through conflict and
displacement. They are on the verge of being a lost generation.’45 The warnings balanced
with a sense of hope, ‘But against all odds, children and youth are not
giving up on their dreams and aspirations’, and a call for support, ‘We
all must do more to provide them with opportunities to heal, to learn
and to thrive again’. The discourse was used in varying degrees across a
number of media reports. ‘A Lost Generation: Young Syrian Refugees
Struggle to Survive’, led a New York Times article by Jodi
Rudoren, the story reflecting some of the key concerns raised by aid
agencies about the futures of Syrian children.

These children, the next lost generation, make up a
particularly troubling category of collateral damage from Syria’s
chaotic conflict, which has left 70,000 people dead. There is Ahmad
Ojan, fourteen, who wanted to be a teacher, but now spends his days
peddling tea in Jordan’s sprawling Za’atari refugee camp. And there is
Marwa Hutaba, fifteen, who still hopes to be a pharmacist, but is
increasingly worried she might be married off to a wealthy foreigner –
like the fourteen-year-old who disappeared from school after ‘getting
engaged one day and married the next’.46

Freelance journalist Stephanie
Parker, who reported for the New York Times, stated that, ‘I’m
very aware of the No Lost Generation initiative. In the series of
stories that I wrote revolving around refugees I used the spirit of the
program and the importance of it without directly referencing the
campaign’.47 While
Parker knew about the initiative, many other journalists did not but the
essence of a ‘Lost Generation’ of Syrian children was picked up in many
articles. The involvement of multiple aid agencies in the initiative, at
a headquarters, regional and country level, helped create a common
discourse when talking about education and child protection issues with
the media. ‘Inside a Refugee Camp with Syria’s “Lost Generation”’ led a
NBC News story.48
While the headline implied that it was too late for the children, the
article reflected the essence of the issue. ‘Gassem and Jalal have not
stopped thinking about the future. Even though he is too intimidated to
attend school in the crowded camp full of strangers, Gassem dreams of
one day becoming a doctor.’ The No Lost Generation initiative played a
role in framing the education and child protection issues in Za’atari
within the media. This is not to say that the news selection process was
necessarily influenced, for as Silvio Waisboard notes, there are so many
determining factors along the media chain.49 But the common discourse helped aid
agencies to present one voice around the relevant issues when working
with media.

The shifting media narrative and evolving conditions on
the ground

As time progressed, it was clear
that the conflict in Syria was not going to be resolved soon. Life in
Za’atari became more routine and stable, with an increasing sense of
semi-permanence in the camp. By early 2014, a shift in the nature of
media coverage can be identified, with articles that looked more at the
resolve of children and their active involvement in camp life, as
opposed to direct association with the conflict back home or violence
within Za’atari itself. The hard news giving way to an increasingly
features-led approach, for example ‘The Secret Gardens of Syria’s
Refugee Camps’ in which children and their parents are involved in a
gardening project organised by the NGO, Save the Children, to ‘start
building just a bit of hope and happiness’.50 Or the children who enrol in taekwondo
classes and are featured in a documentary and Buzzfeed article, ‘a
surprisingly uplifting story in the midst of all this tragedy’.51 The case of then
fourteen-year-old Muzoon is another example.52 ‘Syrian Teen is Called “the Malala of
Za’atari”’, ran a CNN edition headline.53 ‘We can help and improve our nation
with education’, Muzoon is quoted as saying. While there is recognition
of the desperate situation that many Syrian children face, the story
focuses on the childhood dreams of one young girl. ‘Days go by, and an
end to the Syrian crisis does not seem near, but [Muzoon], who dreams of
someday becoming a journalist, is already thinking of better days for
her country’s future’, reports Alvarado. The work behind this story
provides an interesting example of the intersection between aid agencies
and journalists. In the summer of 2013, Muzoon was part of a team of
girls who went from home to home trying to convince children and their
parents to enrol them for school.54 An articulate and
inspiring girl, Muzoon played a key role in advocating for children to
continue their education in the camp. For media she was an obvious
choice and Muzoon spoke to a number of news outlets but it was following
the visit of global education advocate, Malala Yousafzai, with whom she
spent a day in the camp in February 2014 that journalists would
specifically ask to talk with her (see figure
8.1). The focus on Muzoon by the media meant she played a critical
role in changing the discourse around young people’s issues. But the
relationship with the media had to be carefully managed by aid agencies.
Resentment within the community, a perception of preferential treatment
and a lack of opportunity for other girls were some of the issues that
had to be addressed.

Another example of the shift in media portrayal of
children is an audio photo essay, ‘Through Teenagers’ Eyes: Unique
Snapshots of Syrian Refugee Life’, featured by BBC Online.55 The content focused
on a project run by the charity, Save the Children, that included the
work of Syrian teenagers in photographing their lives in Za’atari. The
BBC on this occasion published prepackaged content. ‘I want to be a
famous photojournalist and travel the world’, says Khaled.56 ‘The children struck
me as being very optimistic for their situation’, adds photographer
Michael Christopher Brown, who worked with the children. The involvement
of an internationally renowned photographer may well have helped in the
placement but the voices presented here are a far
cry from the sentiment of the children who expressed their desire for
jihad in the earlier articles reviewed. While it can be expected that
content produced by an aid agency about one of its projects would focus
more on the positives, it was still exposed to the news selection
process, as part of the BBC’s coverage.

It is important at this point to revisit the issue of
access, as a factor in the evolving media coverage of children’s issues
in Za’atari. As mentioned earlier, media permits to access the camp were
granted relatively easily during the first phase of reporting and
journalists were freer to come and go. The conditions on the ground
meant that reporters could take more time, or the amount allocated by
their organisation, to identify their stories and the children to
interview. But this changed in late 2013 and the earlier reporting,
perceived as more sensationalist, was a contributing factor. The process
for acquiring media permits for Za’atari became more stringent and, when
granted access, journalists were only allowed two days to report from
the camp before having to apply again. This played a role in changing
the working relationship between journalists and aid agencies on the
ground. The portrayal of children in Za’atari during phase one of
coverage, from potential jihadists to the camp’s number one
troublemakers, had a direct impact on families living there. As Linda
Polman highlights, ‘Most refugee camps have TVs that can pick up CNN, so
refugees see how “we” portray victims’.57 While Za’atari residents were not
watching CNN, they were viewing other satellite channels in 2013. There
was also access to the internet through phones and many residents were
in regular contact with relatives both inside Syria and further afield.
The high profile presence of media in the camp from the outset had been
tolerated by most people in the camp. While some were not willing to
talk with journalists, or be photographed, for fear of repercussions on
family members back home and because they were expecting to return to
Syria, others wanted to tell the world their stories in the hope of more
outside support. But as more reporters came to Za’atari and the
situation inside Syria got worse, residents became less tolerant of what
they perceived as a negative portrayal of Syrians in the camp, including
children. Coverage of the so-called pleasure marriage story became
particularly problematic.

The story of pleasure marriages was based on Syrian women
and girls who were being married off to older men, the majority of whom
were reported to have come from Gulf countries. These marriages would
then be annulled within a couple of months or weeks, as the men left, so
in effect a form of prostitution. ‘In a Jordan Camp, Outsiders Seek
Syrian Brides’, reported the Washington Post.58 While the Daily Telegraph
highlighted how Syrian girls were being sold into ‘forced marriages’.59 ‘The “dowry”, which
in Muslim society is traditionally paid by the groom as a guarantee of
the bride’s security, has become a payment for sex. And the “marriage”,
is an affair that lasts only a few days or even hours’, the article
explained. This pleasure marriage narrative was predominant in the first
phase of media coverage and was a very sensitive subject in the camp. An
Agence France Presse article featured a father who
explained that he had no choice but to marry off his teenage daughter to
a forty-year-old Saudi man.60 The report also highlighted how a group of activists
in the camp were trying to stop the marriages. ‘“We launched a
revolution to win back our dignity,” Naimi said. “We are not going to
surrender it for a dowry”.’ These emotions would soon have an impact on
the work of journalists in the camp. Aid agencies spoke about their
concerns of the reported pleasure marriage practice but had few hard
facts to add to the story. ‘We have seen no evidence of prostitution in
the camp, but we have heard rumors of it’, the head of the United
Nations Refugee Agency (UNHCR) in Jordan, Andrew Harper, was cited as
saying in an Associated Press article.61 ‘Given the vulnerability of women, the
camp’s growing population and the lack of resources, I’m not surprised
that some may opt for such actions’, he added. In a number of quotes on
the issue, Harper framed the problem around a need for more financial
support for aid agencies, so that families could be better assisted and
as a result were not driven to such desperate measures. When journalists
reported on the story, they would often source the affected girls in the
camp themselves. One of the first locations to visit was the wedding
dress shop on Za’atari’s market street. A steady stream of reporters
went to take photographs and conduct interviews. But there was growing
frustration amongst residents about the way media were portraying Syrian
girls. When a TV crew from Al-Arabiya arrived on the camp’s market road
in October 2013, rumours spread that they were focusing on a pleasure
marriage story, and they were subsequently attacked and had to be
escorted to safety by Jordanian police.62

In late 2013, the Jordanian authorities reduced the
permitted reporting time in Za’atari to two days per visit and
journalists were required to leave the camp by 3 p.m. each day. With
less time, this meant an increased reliance on aid agencies to access
stories and families in the camp. But this development also came at a
time when aid agencies had to be more careful than ever when
accompanying journalists around the camp. It could be problematic to be
associated with media who were perceived to be contributing to the
negative image of Syrian girls and residents of the camp as a whole, or
media outlets whose governments took a particular political stance. For
example, some families in Za’atari would not talk with Chinese or
Russian media, given their countries’ backing of the Syrian government.
While aid workers were building stronger relationships with people in
Za’atari and given their long-term presence on the ground, they did not
want to jeopardise this. As Kimberly Abbot notes, ‘The lives of staff
members, especially nationals, can be endangered, if reporters they
accompany are associated with the “wrong side”’ or are reporting in what
is seen as a more exploitative manner.63 But media embedding with aid agencies
that would normally be more prominent in the first acute phase of an
emergency, became more common and critical, as reporters were
time-restricted. Aid agencies could provide journalists with quick
access to stories and an overview of the problems and issues. Working
with journalists in covering sensitive issues, such as the pleasure
marriage story, was important in other ways.
Despite not being able to add specific facts or information about the
pleasure marriage phenomenon, supporting reporters who would cover the
story anyhow could help to better protect and support children and
families interviewed. A specific handbook for journalists was produced
with guidance on ‘Reporting on Gender-Based Violence in the Syrian
Crisis’, which highlights how ‘child marriage is not always perceived as
a “real” form of gender-based violence, so journalists can be
unscrupulous in sharing details, including pictures of young brides’.64 By being involved in
the newsgathering process, child protection workers can help to create a
more protective environment. For example, framing questions in a more
sensitive way and through providing follow-up support to the child after
their interview. Freelance reporter, Stephanie Parker, noted that:

Agencies did have a big impact on how I
reported because organisations like UNICEF acted as a
gatekeeper, protector, or armed guard of the children if you
will. This protection type attitude made me feel comfortable and
at ease about how the children were being treated and grateful
that they wanted to speak to me about their family life and
circumstance.65

From pleasure to early marriage

The coverage of the so-called
pleasure and early marriage issue provides a deeper insight into the
evolving narrative between phase one and two of reporting from the camp.
The pleasure marriage story became newsworthy in the earlier days of
Za’atari, as the issue fitted well into the news frame. It was an event,
whereby a girl is married and then the so-called marriage is relatively
quickly annulled. This is important, as Jake Lynch and Johan Galtung
note, the rhythm of news is punctual, based on events not processes that
take more time to evolve and reveal where they are headed.66 The pleasure marriage
story also demands attention of readers because it ‘crashes through
routine order’.67
Young girls from a religious conservative background are sold off to
rich men from the Gulf. For international readers, this is a shocking
consequence of the refugee crisis. The media spotlight, in the pursuit
of readers, ratings and revenue, is, as Cottle and Nolan note, drawn
selectively to images of distress rather than issues of structural
disadvantage, in which early marriage would more clearly fit.68 The portrayal of
Syrian girls, as being exploited through the pleasure marriage
narrative, was a factor that changed the working conditions for
journalists on the ground and, as highlighted, potentially played a role
in complicating media access to Za’atari. By early 2014, media coverage
of the issue evolved to look in more depth at the practice of early
marriage amongst the Syrian refugee population. While both pleasure and
early marriage are classified as gender-based violence and detrimental
to the futures and health of the girls involved, the nuances between the
two are important.69
They are fundamentally different issues that require different types of
responses. As Mukkaram Odeh notes:

The crisis complicated this problem [early
marriage] even more because of the lack of safety and stability.
It increased fears regarding economic challenges and harassment,
and many refugee families believe that their daughters will be
safer if they are married.70

While
there were financial considerations, there was a sense amongst some
families that it was in the best interest of their girls to marry
younger, and in the majority of cases to men within their own
community.71 The
pleasure marriage story, however, was driven by a narrative of
exploitation. When new statistics on the extent of early marriage
amongst Syrian girls were verified in mid-2014 it provided an
opportunity for aid agencies to present a more in-depth picture. The
release of two new reports by UNICEF and Save the Children were timed to
coincide with the 2014 ‘Girl Summit’, hosted by the UK government and
UNICEF in London. The gathering aimed to push for ‘concrete commitments
to end child, early and forced marriage and female genital mutilation
for girls everywhere’.72 The UNICEF report, ‘A Study on Early Marriage in
Jordan, 2014’, showed the rate of child marriages amongst Syrian
refugees in the country increased from 18 per cent of total marriages in
2012, to 32 per cent in 2014, while ‘Too Young to Wed’ focused more on
case studies and stories of girls who had married early.73 The new statistics
and information in the reports, including quotes from affected girls,
were picked up by a range of media. The Guardian highlighted the
increasing numbers of girls marrying early and the subsequent impact,
‘Child marriage among Syrian refugees in Jordan has more than doubled
since the start of the conflict, leaving girls vulnerable to health
problems, domestic abuse and poverty, the UN has warned’. The article
went on to identify the factors responsible for children marrying early,
as well as further depth into the long-term impact. ‘They [girls] also
have more limited economic opportunities due to loss of schooling and
can get trapped in a vicious cycle of poverty’, the UNICEF Jordan
Representative was quoted as saying.74 ‘Child marriages double among Syria refugees in
Jordan’, reported Agence France Presse, while Buzzfeed used photos of
drawings produced by Syrian girls in Za’atari to raise awareness about
the dangers of child marriage.75 The article presented a more creative and visual way
to tell the story. The communications products to accompany the new
reports were produced to target media outlets and conform to the known
dispositions of news organisations.76 A process that Natalie Fenton refers to as ‘“news
cloning” that mimics, or indeed matches, the requirements of mainstream
news agendas’, but does not mean that aid agencies ‘have managed to
change news agendas and challenge normative conceptions of news
criteria’.77 Cottle
and Nolan believe that by working in this way aid agencies ‘practically
detract from their principal remit of humanitarian provision and
symbolically fragment the historically founded ethic of universal
humanitarianism’.78
However, in the case of the early marriage reports and related
communications products, it renewed focus and presented an opportunity
to advocate for more support to tackle the issue, whilst providing
additional context and reporting in a more dignified way for the girls
and families affected. This is particularly important, as media
attention of early marriage had mixed consequences.
‘Syrian girls and their families reported feeling that the media
contributed to a negative perception of Syrian women and girls, and
sometimes reacted by increasing isolation and control over young
women.’79

There was a spike in coverage of the early marriage story
around the ‘Girl Summit’ and the reports also led to follow-up coverage
from journalists in subsequent months, for example an article by the
New York Times, ‘In Jordan, Ever Younger Syrian Brides’, that
looked in depth at the issue. ‘The girl, Rahaf Yousef, is 13. Speaking
wistfully of her days at school, she declared herself throughout the day
to be “indifferent” to the marriage she says will keep her from
finishing her education. But no one seemed to be listening.’ The article
went on to include some of the ongoing efforts to tackle the rising
trend:

Aid agencies and organizations are alarmed
enough by the increase in early marriages that they have been
conducting awareness campaigns. ‘You’ll be surprised at the lack
of knowledge among the community about the devastating health
consequences of early marriage,’ said Fasel Shammout, a
psychologist who has done training for the refugees. ‘By the
time they reach us, they are in a dire strait – legally,
mentally, physically’.80

While the
pleasure marriage story was important to cover and may have been a more
compelling, simplistic and attention-grabbing narrative, as with the
children awaiting their chance to join the jihad, it was far from the
full picture.

Conclusion

The international media narrative
covering children in Za’atari camp evolved as time progressed, from one
where Syrian children were portrayed as more aggressive and threatening,
to a representation that focused more on their resolve and aspirations.
The potential influence of aid agencies on this discourse is one of a
number of factors to consider, given that many mechanisms intervene to
shape the news.81 The
shift in the discourse reflected life in the camp, as the days became
more stable and routine, while the aid operation evolved from an acute
emergency operation into a more systematic response. But the loss of
trust between the Za’atari population and journalists, as a result of
what was perceived as negative media coverage, particularly around the
pleasure marriage issue, led to tougher working conditions for
reporters. There were direct attacks against journalists and access
became harder when the media accreditation process was made more
stringent, including a reduction in the time allowed to report from the
camp. With less flexibility, there was more of a reliance on aid
agencies to source people and stories and as a result a greater role in
the newsgathering process.

The Syrian refugee crisis presented a new image of
children and young people fleeing war. Working- and middle-class
populations forced to flee their houses and apartments for the relative
safety of what became the largest refugee camp across the region. While
living conditions were tough, it was the loss of education and ongoing
psychological recovery from exposure to conflict and displacement that
would have the most immediate and mid- to long-term
impact on children. Initiatives such as ‘No Lost Generation’ were
designed to raise awareness and more funds for these traditionally
underfunded sectors of humanitarian work. The discourse used in the
campaign was meant to appeal to media and to present the challenges but
also the hope and aspirations of Syrian children affected. The nuance of
the language arguably in some cases played in to the more negative
outlook for Syrian children but the essence of supporting a generation
of children to regain their childhood helped to frame the education and
protection issues at the forefront of the response. As time went on,
media articles in phase two of coverage had an increasingly features-led
approach and looked more at children’s involvement in camp life and what
it meant for their lives. This was in contrast to earlier reporting,
where Syrian children were framed within narratives that emerged as part
of the so-called ‘War on Terror’.82

This chapter argues that aid agencies can help to provide
the extra context required for more sophisticated coverage of issues
affecting children during humanitarian crises. This is seen more clearly
in the later media reports from Za’atari, as the evolving pleasure to
early marriage story highlights. As Abbott notes, NGO and media
partnerships are a reality and can lead to stronger foreign news
reporting that better serves audiences in our interconnected world.83 In today’s society,
where the fear of the other is often reflected in media narratives, I
would argue that aid agencies have an even more critical role to play,
or even a moral obligation, to amplify the voices of children affected,
so that they are not drowned out.84 The media presents an important opportunity to
advocate for the rights of the children affected, to contribute to
public education and to support fundraising efforts. While aid agencies
have clear goals and aims, the information provided should add to and be
a natural part of the story. When aid workers are part of the news
process they can also help to better protect children and encourage more
ethical reporting on sensitive and traumatic subjects. The media
portrayal of Syrian children in Za’atari is so critical because the
language used provides us with not just a mode of interaction but also
with a capacity for representation.85 As the Syrian refugee crisis subsequently spread to
Europe, it was in turn followed by a narrative of fear and negativity
that often failed to take into account the impact of the situation on
children. The effects of this discourse – similar to those prominent in
the early days of the Za’atari camp – are now being felt across the
world.

44See http://nolostgeneration.org/partners. Accessed 18 June 2016.
The ‘No Lost Generation’ initiative includes multiple partners
working on the Syrian and Iraqi crises across the region including,
‘United Nations agencies and international and local NGOs, as well
as governments, international donors, private sector and the young
people themselves who are so affected by the crises in Syria and
Iraq’.

52Mazoun is the spelling that she uses in English
for her name, in the original report the journalist spells the name,
Mizune.

53A.Alvarado, ‘Syrian Teen is Called the Malala of
Za’atari’, CNN
International (18 April 2014), http://cnn.it/RrgrWv. Accessed 5 June 2016. Malala Yousafzai
the Pakistani schoolgirl who was shot on her way to school in 2009
and was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize five years later for her work
in campaigning for girls’ education.

73UNICEF, A Study on Early Marriage; Save
the Children, ‘Too Young to Wed: The Growing Problem of Child
Marriage among Syrian Girls in Jordan’, Save the Children
(2014), http://bit.ly/1FXQIX3.
Accessed 12 January 2016.